Criminals in Suits
by gingaloid
Summary: **AU WHITE COLLAR FIC** The Liberty Bell has been stolen and Peter Burke and his team has been called in to help track down the thieves. The hardest part? Forging a trail to find the "thieves." Sometimes the best of the best are the farthest from it. Welcome to White Collar.
1. Crims in Suits

**A/N: Hello, hello! It's been a while since I've posted anything on here! This is my first White Collar fic, so please be kind when reading/reviewing. It took me a bit to get into character, and I don't feel that it really came out until the end. Hopefully, though, I've done justice. Chapter 2 coming soon! R&R welcome as always! -Tayma xx**

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****Chapter 1: Crims in Suits

A pristine black heel stepped out of the elevator onto the 21st floor of the high rise building. The other heel came to meet it, standing sassily before the elevator momentarily, allowing the two doors to close before proceeding on their mission. One foot in front of the other, delicate clicks followed in the wake of each step, long legs carrying the red-head through the glass doors reading FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION, and past the cubicle of one Neal Caffrey.

"Caffrey," Sara spoke cooly, giving him a twitch of a smile before continuing on her way, extending her hand towards the man she was meeting. She could still feel Neal's eyes on her as she stopped at the foot of some stairs, looking two men in the face. "Peter. It's nice to see you."

"And you," Peter said, offering her a smile before gesturing at the man next to him. "Sara, this is Richard Penn, he's here on behalf of the city of Philadelphia. Richard, this is Sara Ellis of Sterling Bosch." Richard grasped Sara's hand tightly, gripping it surely before releasing it. "If you wouldn't mind stepping into my office, Sara…"

Sara nodded surely, flashing another of her smiles and following Peter and Richard into Peter's office, the glass doors closing behind them.

"Take a seat," Peter said, moving around to his side of the desk, taking a seat in his own swivel chair. Loosening his tie ever so slightly, Peter reclined in the seat, watching as Sara and Richard each took a seat across from him.

"So what exactly is this about?" Sara asked, looking from one man to the other. "I was told that this is a matter of national security."

"Not exactly," Richard began, clearing his throat. "More like national liberty."

Sara let this sink in. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"It would appear that sometime within the last forty-eight hours, the Liberty Bell was stolen," Peter piped in, pushing a file across to Sara and flipping it open.

Sara laughed. "The Liberty Bell?" An eyebrow lifted, and when neither man laughed with her, she sobered immediately. "The _Liberty Bell_ went missing? Within forty-eight hours?"

"Well, it would appear less," Richard said, shaking his head. "Seemingly overnight, but who could believe that the Liberty Bell would be stolen over night without anyone seeing?"

"That's why Richard has requested our help."

"To help him find the Liberty Bell," Sarah said, asking for clarification.

"To find the Liberty Bell," Peter nodded and he and Sara shared a momentary look before she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Of course. The Liberty Bell is, well, priceless."

"Making your cut eternal gratitude and I'm sure a large sum of reward money on behalf of the city of Philadelphia," Neal piped in, stepping through the glass doors, charming smirk on his lips.

"Who's this?" Richard asked, gesturing to Neal.

"Neal Caffrey. History buff and consultant for Agent Peter Burke," he shook Richard's hand. "How's it going? So, the Liberty Bell is missing. Interesting. When…did you say this happened?"

"Sometime within the last forty-eight hours. Our security cameras seem to have been disabled at the time, though who would ever attempt to steal the Liberty Bell?" Richard laughed a little at how ridiculous it all sounded.

"We're going to need a list of visitors to Independence Hall within the past six months, see if there were any frequented individuals, people casing the area, possibly taking note of vantage points, blind spots…any security footage that you may have, employee background information, especially those working closest with the Bell," Neal rambled off, lifting the file in front of Sara and inspecting an image of the bell.

Richard looked between Neal and Peter, questioning whether or not to take the tall, blue-eyed man seriously. Peter gave a small nod before giving Neal a look. He should have been used to Neal's forward ways and preference for taking control in all situations, but sometimes it astounded him still at the man's behavior.

"Of course," Richard said, moving to stand. "We'll get it all sent to you as soon as possible." He extended a hand all around before nodding and placing his hat back on his head and exiting the office.

The trio stood silently, watching the man leave, one-by-one turning back towards Peter's desk, leaning in and hovering over the opened file.

"So what do we have?" Sara asked, her lower lip pulling back between her teeth.

"A couple of leads, possibly a few witnesses who could say they saw something, but people always come out of the woodwork saying they saw things that never happened when something major like this happens," Neal said, with a sigh.

"No doubt they'll have the media on this soon."

"Soon? Already. They've issued reports to all major news sources; stories are going up all over the place. FoxNews, CNN, MSNBC…all of them know that the Liberty Bell is missing, and there's a manhunt for whoever managed to pull it off," Peter stood, hands on his hips, turning to look out of his window. "People are going to go crazy to find out who took the Bell, and it's going to be our job to find out who took it first."

He was silent for a moment before turning around with a smirk on his lips, the smirk growing as he caught Sara and Neal sharing a conspiring look. Sara shrugged a shoulder and glanced to Peter, smile on her face.

"Have you spoken to El?"

"Sure have. She and Mozzie are camped out at the temporary base."

"When does the shipment come in?"

"Tomorrow."

"Which means?"

"The shipment goes out tomorrow as well," Peter confirmed.

"And where do we go from there?" Sara asked, completely out of the most recent loop.

"From there," Neal butted in, moving to lean against Peter's desk, "Mozzie accompanies the shipment, keeping surveillance. He's far enough under the radar that he can disappear and reappear and nobody would know any better. He has a few connections to help keep himself hidden long enough to keep watch. El, on the other hand, will stay here. Keep up her usual appearances."

"And the rest of us?"

"Stay put. Peter and I lead the manhunt for the man who stole the Liberty Bell, making sure to keep Mister Penn happy and the spotlight away from us, while you –"

"Keep up appearances at Sterling Bosch, clock in, clock out, keep them out of the loop while keeping myself in the loop and assisting Superman and Boy Wonder whenever they need." Sara finished, nodding a little bit.

"Boy Wonder? Really? You couldn't come up with anything better?"

"Mmm, Sticky Fingers crossed my mind, but I'd already used that one, so." Sara shrugged.

"Way to go, Repo."

Peter cleared his throat and moved to sit. "Play nice, children."

"Okay," Sara said, taking a deep breath. "How exactly are you going to lead Mister Penn – and the rest of America, might I add – to this elusive man who stole the Liberty Bell?"

"Easy. Leading them to a different suspect."

"Won't that be difficult?"

"Oh, no. Big ticket item like this? There's going to be someone who claims to have stolen the Bell. The only question is who and how long will it take them?"

Sara nodded. "And that is why we have Mozzie keeping connections. He'll hear it first…"

"And we ring their bell. So to speak."

"Right. Well, I'm going to get back to keeping up appearances, then." Sara said, giving the two men a smile. "Peter. Quasimodo."

She turned on one of her heels and left, leaving Neal staring after her with a look of distaste.

"I am not the Hunchback of Notre Dame." He said, looking to Peter.

"Sure you're not, Quasi."

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**DISCLAIMER: I do not own White Collar or any of the characters besides Mr. Penn. All else is property of USA/Jeff Eastin.**


	2. Having Him Owe Me One

_**A/N: **_**Hi, everyone! I bring you the second installment of Criminals in Suits! Much like the last chapter, this chapter is definitely more Sara-centric. I have a feeling that a majority of this story is ultimately going to be told through Sara or with Sara as a main focal point, because I just love the idea of her pulling a major heist like this with Neal. So please, R&R is loved as always! I hope you enjoy! -Tayma x**

**p.s. Shout out to my beta - Caitlin! :D She's def. amazing!**

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Having Him Owe Me One

Sara stepped into her apartment after another long day at the office. Her job was rewarding in more ways than one, but it was absolutely exhausting some days. Nothing felt better than finally collapsing onto her couch with a glass of wine and an old classic on TCM. So that is exactly what she planned on doing.

Within moments of entering her modest apartment, Sara's heels were off somewhere between the front door and her kitchen. Her purse and coat were dumped onto the kitchen table, and she made her way through to her bedroom, shirt already half unbuttoned. She finished the job and her skirt was quick to follow on the way to the closet where she found her silk pajamas and slipped them on with a happy sigh. Comfort.

Feeling more at ease, Sara leisurely made her way to the kitchen, pulling down her favourite wine glass and grabbing her favourite wine off of the shelf. She uncorked the bottle and poured the deep burgundy liquid into the cup, smiling a little to herself as she did so. The bottle of wine was rested against the counter, and a moment passed before the decision was made to leave the bottle out; Lord knows she'd end up wanting another with dinner.

Dinner.

Green eyes flitted to a menu on the counter. Mediterranean. That would have to do. Sara took a sip of her wine, carrying the glass with her to get her phone, wanting to hold on to her salvation from the day. Minutes later, order was placed, card number was given, and dinner was on the way. She curled up on the couch, nursing her beverage and turning on the television, already turned to her favourite channel. Relaxed, the exhaustion of her day began to melt away, and she started to doze, head leaning on her free hand.

_Buzzzzz! Buzzz-buzzz-buuuuuuzzz!_

Sara was jolted from her nap with a buzz and a jump, her mostly-full glass of wine sloshing over onto her pajamas.

"Shit!" she muttered to herself, looking down, hand hovering over the cool, wet cloth. Perfect. That was going to stain. The buzzing continued on incessantly, and her eyes flitted over to the clock. It took a moment to realize her dinner must have arrived and she stood, setting her glass on the coffee table and hurrying over to get the door, wine down her front. She yanked the door open, expecting her dinner and instead finding a pair of ice blue eyes leaning against the door and staring at her with an entertained smirk.

"Busy?"

"Can I help you?" Sara asked, unable to hide the glare on her face. She was wet, annoyed, growing cold, and Neal Caffrey was smiling at her. He wanted something, and as much as she liked him, after her day, she didn't want to do anything for him.

"Maybe I can help you," he said with a wink, leaning forward and tugging her shirt gently. "Wearing our drinks these days?"

Sara rolled her eyes and turned away from the door, knowing Neal wouldn't be leaving. She started towards her bedroom, unbuttoning the wet clothing as she went. The front door clicked and she heard the unmistakable sound of Neal Caffrey's footfalls in her kitchen. Pouring himself a glass of wine, no doubt. She dropped her shirt onto the floor, moving to the dresser and grabbing her fallback tank and cotton shorts ensemble. She changed quickly, turning to find Neal watching her.

"_Can _I help you, Caffrey?"

"Can't a guy just drop in to see how things are going?" Neal asked, slight offense written all over his features.

"A guy? Yes. You? No. You're smiling."

"So?"

"You want something."

Neal watched her for a moment, opening his mouth to dispute before closing it again. Sara pushed past him, walking through to get the front door. She received her dinner and walked to the kitchen, starting to open the containers. She dished out the food on two plates, not even bothering to ask Neal if he was hungry before thrusting a plate into his hands along with a fork, taking her own to sit at the table.

"So," she said, after she had a few bites in her stomach and her irritated mood had begun to dissipate. "What do you want?"

"I…it's complicated."

"When is it not with you?" She asked with a laugh, an eyebrow raising.

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised and his head inclined as if to say she had a point. He took a bite of food, chewing slowly before leaning in, speaking quietly as if there were others in the apartment that could hear them. "It has to do with a con."

"A con," Sara said, nodding once and leaning in. "What kind of con?"

"Sort of the con of all cons. The greatest heist in American history," There was a glint in Neal's eye and it had Sara captivated. How could he love something so bad? She didn't understand, but she was so attracted to it. It had her holding her breath against her wishes. "The theft of the Liberty Bell."

Sara snorted, illusion broken. She backed away and took a sip of her wine, standing to clear her plate. "Neal, the Liberty Bell has never been stolen."

"Until now."

Sara stopped halfway to the sink, turning around, dishes still in hand. "Neal…you didn't! You _stole the Liberty Bell_?"

"No, of course not." He started, standing with his dishes, taking Sara's from her and walking over to the sink. "Not yet, anyways. Moz and I are still working out all of the details and specifics. I mean, this has to go perfectly."

Sara turned, watching him, absolutely stunned. Not only were they planning potentially one of the greatest crimes in American history, but here he was, standing in her kitchen and telling her about it?

"Neal, I – why are you telling me this?" She asked, eyes wide. "I can't – you can't – I have to – this makes me an accessory to this, are you aware of that? I can't lie if someone comes asking when you and Mozzie disappear with the Liberty Bell in tow."

Neal dropped the dishes in the sink of hot water and turned, drying his hands.

"We want you to be a part of it."

"I – no. Oh, no. I can't believe you're asking that." Red hair shook and she was out of the kitchen, heading towards her room once more. That was one of the most ridiculous suggestions she'd ever heard. Help steal the Liberty Bell. No.

"Sara, come on," Neal started, following her. He stood in the doorway, watching her busy herself with turning down her own bed. "Grey area."

She stopped, crawled onto her bed and lifted an eyebrow, her legs crossed.

"Grey area? _Grey area? _The whole point of a grey area is that it doesn't fall directly on a yes or no level. It can be skirted between either one. A heist of this caliber? Big ass NO stamped across the idea – that puts it completely out of the grey area," Sara looked at Neal, face far more stern than was necessary.

"Sara…"

"No."

"But –"

"No!"

"Sa—"

"No, Neal," she reached over and turned the light off on her bedside. Sara slid down beneath her covers and turned away from the door, resting against her pillows. "Close the door on your way out."

She didn't want to argue with him over this. He'd keep smiling at her, and she'd keep saying no, until she said yes because despite her hard, tough exterior, Neal Caffrey had Sara Ellis melting inside.

Sara's eyes closed and she heard Neal turn and walk away, his footsteps getting farther and farther from her room. She relaxed against the mattress, a relaxed hum escaping her lips. The fact that it wasn't even ten o'clock didn't matter to her; she was comfortable and sleep sounded so beautiful to her.

Minutes passed, but sleep wasn't coming as Sara hoped. Instead, she was lying in bed, thinking over what Neal was suggesting. He wanted her to help commit an insane crime and call it _grey area_? Did he not realize that he was still on-anklet? Something like this could get him put back in prison for a really long time; more than likely permanently. She wondered if she should call Peter and tell him what was going on. If anything, Peter could talk some sense into Neal…

As her hand slipped from the blankets and reached towards her phone, there was a heavy weight on the mattress behind her, causing her to bounce violently in her place.

"Please, Repo!" Neal said, pouncing on the bed behind her.

Sara whipped around, her eyes finding Neal's before starting to wail at him, smacking his arms and chest.

"Caffrey – you – don't – do – that!" She yelled, each word punctuated with a slap. A few more smacks fell on his body before Sara pulled away, yanking the blankets up to herself, eyes glaring. She caught sight of his socked feet and shook her head. That explained her not hearing him return.

"You'd have Neal Caffrey owe you one."

She stared.

"You like having Neal Caffrey owe you one."

She didn't speak, but continued on glaring.

"You like the mystery?"

Sara couldn't help but roll her eyes, a small smile on her lips as he regurgitated old conversations to her. She took a moment, then reached forward, grabbing his tie.

"I like you more, and I like you not imprisoned," she confessed, hoping it would help kill his ridiculous idea.

"You like me, huh?" He smirked.

Sara dropped his tie, "Neal, stop it, I'm being serious. If you do this – if you get caught – you're back in prison. More than likely for life. I'm not going to be responsible for that."

She looked into his eyes, then reached out behind herself, grabbing her phone. Neal watched her start scrolling through her numbers, confusion on his face.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling Peter. Maybe he can talk you out of this."

"He's in on it," Neal said, looking at her seriously.

"What?!" Sara stared at him.

"It's a long story. Just…consider it?" Neal leaned in, taking her phone out of her hands and placing it back on her night side table.

"It's dangerous," Sara started, watching him move in closer until their lips were almost connecting.

"It could be fun," he said quietly, his eyes on hers before they dropped to her lips. He brushed his lips across hers gently, feeling her lips turn up into a smile at the connection.

"You're trouble," Sara muttered, pressing her lips fully against his, her fingers gripping his tie once again, pulling him closer.

Neal kissed her back, leaning her back against her pillows before breaking their kiss, looking at her with a smirk, "Is that a yes?"

Sara looked at him, "I could go to prison. You could go to prison. We could all go to prison."

He stared at her, seemingly unfazed by what he was being told.

"You've broken laws before, Sara. This is just…more high class."

"White collar," she clarified, lifting her eyebrows at him, shifting to make herself more comfortable on the bed.

"Consider it repossession. We know you love those, Repo."

"Mm, and how is stealing an American icon repossession?"

"Well, we'll steal it. And then someone is going to have to find it." Neal smirked. "Whether or not you actually _find _it is a whole other con, but you'll put in the effort to repossess an object of national importance from…essentially yourself. It's a win-win."

Sara's eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm pretty sure none of that made complete sense, but somehow, the way you just explained it, it made complete sense."

Neal laughed.

"I'm in." Sara said after a moment, tugging him down to her lips with his tie. "But you owe me, Caffrey. You owe me for life."

Neal nodded, sighing resignedly against her lips as they connected once more. She could never do anything just for the fun of it. Or…maybe that was the fun of it for her.

Sara laughed. "I love having Neal Caffrey owe me one."

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DISCLAIMER: Still not Jeff Eastin. Still don't own Sara or Neal or White Collar.


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